


Cold Is The Bed Of A Liar

by Squeemish



Series: Lizard Love Prompts From The Tumblr [10]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: 1st Chapter is Gen 2nd Mature/Explicit, Arguing, Blow Jobs, EDITED 02/2019, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Long Distance Call, M/M, Post-Canon Cardassia, Prompt Fill, because canon is arse, kinda fluffy too so, petty references to both Jadzia and Ziyal being alive, sort of 69 but not really, writing sex is ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-08-11 13:53:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16476797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeemish/pseuds/Squeemish
Summary: Dialogue prompts: “Maybe you shouldn’t have lied in the first place. Ever consider that?” + “It feels like my face is melting off.”Garak has been away on a diplomatic venture for weeks, while Julian has stayed home in Cardassia. Their conversing over space skype turns into a tiny argument.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 19.2.2019 EDIT: So I wrote this in panicked haste right before nanowrimo, wishing to focus on a longer WIP during that time. I've thought about this lil' fic a lot since then, and came to the conclusion it needed a bit of a rewrite, which I've now done. It's basically the same, only a little better, I hope. Thank you for your time, and sorry for any confusion!

**“Maybe you shouldn’t have lied in the first place. Ever consider that?” +  “It feels like my face is melting off.”**

Arm around his aching stomach, Julian heaved, breaths coming in painful wheezes of laughter. The tea held in his other hand splashed against the rim, barely not spilling on their silvery white sheets.

“My heart has ached for you,” Garak muttered, “Night after night I’ve felt your absence, unable to sleep or eat, suffering in longing and love,” He paused, eyes widening into a dramatic glare, “And this is the greeting I’m given?”

Julian cackled louder.  He'd fallen for a muppet.  A monstrous, blue muppet, whose eyes rolled so forcefully they might as well have popped out to glare and judge. Doubled over, he wiped the corner of his eye, the giggles now soundless hiccups, bent his knee to stabilise the tea on. Unfortunately, there was a blanket under his foot. It dragged up with the leg, pulling with it the pile of books he’d balanced the PADD on. Like a Toppling Tower they swayed, and Julian dived in for the rescue, waves of tea splashing. But it was too late; The small screenful of Garak whumped face first on the bedding, muffled complaints sounding from the speakers.

“Sorry,” Julian readjusted the PADD, and settled back into the nest of pillows, carefully hiding the tea stains with a bit or rearranging, ”I was only expecting to greet you, not your…” He covered the threat of chuckles under a cough, and eyed the massive hood of fur that seemed to have swallowed his beloved, “...parka made of tribbles?”

The fur over Garak’s mouth blew forward with the force of his offended huff.

"What kind of a monster do you think I am?”

“Exactly the kind who would. But why are you so bundled up? Aren’t you in your room?” He took a sip of his tea, iced nowadays, and frowned, “Is the heating not working? You’re not ill are you?”

Garak said nothing, a little too careful to not look at the camera. Julian’s tea lowered to his lap.

“You are.“ He whispered, worry seeping in. “How long? You were joking about not eating or sleeping, right?”

An overly pleasant smile rose to Garak’s lips. It brought Julian no comfort, nor did the dismissive wave of hand, swatting an invisible fly of reason.

“Now, now, there's no need to fuss, I'm sure it's nothing.”

“But you’ve seen a doctor haven't you?”

“I did.”

“Well, what did they say?”

“The doctor assured me that all was in order." Julian's shoulders sagged in relief. Out of habit he blew over the mug before bringing it to his lips, sort of listening as Garak shook his head and chuckled. 

"I'd worried about the fainting, I'll admit, but that's how it is with those of us outside the medical field, making a mountain out of a... mousehill?"

Tepid lemon tea rushed down Julian's windpipe. Once more he wheezed and coughed, beating a fist on his chest while Garak looked on calmly.

"My dear, are you quite alright?"

“You  _ fainted _ ?” He croaked, as outraged as he could manage with the squeak of a rapidly deflating balloon, “When? How many times?”

“Only twice,” The tiny screen Garak swatted away, gleaming eyes narrowed thin in a smile, “Per day. For a week or so.”

And so Julian's plans of murder were sealed. With a single glug, he chucked the last of his tea down, dropped the mug on the side-table, where it loudly spun before settling down with clink. He swept Garak to the left side of the screen, furiously taking notes on the other.

“Any other symptoms?" His brows knitted into a full doctor's frown.

"Oh, nothing to be concerned about. Just the occasional headache, little numbness in the legs, loss of appetite…” Garak stretched his neck toward the camera, as if to check Julian’s writing as he punched in the symptoms. His anger grew with each addition. 

“Who is the doctor there?” He muttered, already typing to look it up, “Don’t worry, I’ll get a shuttle as soon as I can, but I want to have a word with them right  _ fucking  _ now—” Garak stilled.

“Darling, please, there's no need to do that,” He assured, “I’m sure they just happened to be busy—”

“Doctor Kuuzama?” Puzzled, Julian squinted at the name, then at Garak, ”Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“Are you sure?”

“...yes.”

Pale blue eyes blinked from behind the fur as Julian looked up from the screen, leaned back and looked back down.

“You’re perfectly fine, aren't you.” He said, deadpan.

Garak blinked some more, smile stuck in half a grin.

“Well,” He said slowly, “I did say you needn’t fuss.” His smile waned under Julian’s displeased face.

“I know Doctor Kuuzama.”

“Ah.”

“I recall them being exceptionally attentive toward patients. Also, I’m reading the notes she’s made of you.” 

“She made notes?”

Glaring, Julian read out loud:

“The patient shows no signs of the somatic symptoms, but is clearly stressed and experiencing high levels of anxiety. He’s asked me to ignore any messages I might receive from Doctor Bashir, his temporary personal doctor. As I'm not a mental health expert, I’ve referred him to the mental unit, and encouraged them to see me anytime if more comfortable, with a reminder to take the medication previously described by Doctor Bashir. I also send a note to engineering, asking to loan their transmitter and video comm system, so that the patient may have live visual contact with their family to alleviate their discomfort.” Julian’s brows quirked up with  _ ‘well, well’ _ sort of hum, and he continued in a high, cheerful voice, “PS. Hi Julian! Congratulations on the engagement, Elim is so wonderful!”

“She called me wonderful?” said Garak, seeming surprised and terribly flattered.

“Temporary?” hissed Julian. He reread the sentence, looking up at Garak with hurt. “What does she mean by that?”

“I lied.” 

“Did you?” 

“Obviously.” His chest heaved in a dramatic sigh. “Badly, too, if she saw through it so easily. I’m so terribly out of practise…”

Julian rubbed his eyes.

“I’m going to say something,” He muffled through tight lips, “and I know it’ll be difficult for you, but maybe you shouldn’t have lied in the first place. Ever consider that?”

Garak raised one, scaly brow.

“Never,” He said, and laughed, mocking. “Surely you're not surprised?”

Anger flared in Julian's chest.

“Why shouldn't I be?" He asked, irritated. "Why shouldn't I assume, that my fiance respects me enough to not lie about things that would cause real harm, such as the conduct of an excellent doctor, who I very nearly accused of malpractice!”

“There was hardly any danger of that," Garak’s tone dropped to a low mutter, implying, "Especially since you were already acquainted.”

“I still would've believed you over her, had you not confessed after I got access to her notes! Which I do only because I'm officially your personal doctor,  _ at least for now. _ ” Garak scoffed.

“You would’ve believed me over the doctor you knew to be 'attentive'?” The accusation was explicit, hurtful, and Julian pulled at his hair, hands spreading by his head as he yelled in exasperation.

“Yes!” 

“Rather foolish, wouldn’t you say? Have you unlearned every lesson I gave you over the years?”

“I believe you because I  _ trust  _ you,” He spat out the word, voice shaking,  “And I thought you trusted me, to say when you’re ill, or anxious, or lonely, or if you just wanted me to go with you to the talks! You said you didn’t, so I stayed home.” His nostrils flared in a deep breath, meant to calm, and he carried on slower, clipped, “I can't read your thoughts or decipher every hidden meaning behind every word.”

“Maybe you should learn.” Suggested Garak coldly. There was a pause. It didn’t last longer than two seconds, but within that brief breath of silence, Julian’s mood shifted.

“Excuse me?” He said, voice low with warning. 

“It’s quite a useful skill,”  Garak tilted his head, looking off camera as he sighed, patronizing, “Most Cardassians are well versed in it.”

“Maybe you should marry a Cardassian then.” Pain flashed through Garak’s eyes. A bit much, perhaps. Already Julian regretted saying it, but the anger had reached a peak he couldn't delicately descent, and with lips pressed into a thin line, trembling fury in his blood, he jutted his chin at the coat.

“You can drop the act by the way,” He said darkly, ”Or is the room actually cold?”

“It is currently at 24 degrees.”

“That’s… Warmer than on the station.”

“And that makes it acceptable to you?”

“It was acceptable to you when we visited Jadzia last month.”

“It’s less acceptable when it feels like my tail will snap off.” Garak hissed viciously, a hint of embarrassment in the way he clutched the ridiculous jacket.  There was a tremor there, in the graceful fingers. Julian reached for the mug, mouth dry. It was empty, but he kept his lips pressed to it, staring at the brown stains left from the tea. Tea didn’t stain badly, did it? It was mostly water after all. He brushed the soft surface of the covers; They’d been a gift from Ziyal, the joined patterns of Earth orchids entwined with Edosian ones her design, specially made for their engagement.

Garak had nearly disappeared into the coat, barely visible eyes cast to the floor. The mic picked up his sharp and shaky breaths, the only sound in their sunlit bedroom.

“Well.” Garak cleared his throat, voice carefully neutral, “I’ll see you in 15 days, then.”

“Five.”

“Sorry?”

“There's a shuttle leaving this evening.” Julian shut his eyes to rub them again, suddenly exhausted, “Should arrive in five days.”

Garak gawked for a moment, then bowed his head.

“No, Julian—” His eyes fell shut with a pained sigh, “I… I had a bad day. That’s all. You don't have to come all this way. I can manage two weeks, really I can.”

Julian shrugged.

“I can't. It’s 39°C here. Haven’t had hot tea in weeks, and it feels like my face is melting off.” Smiling, he quirked a coy brow, ”Think your freezing arse might be a solution for that?”

Were there dark grey scales under the jacket, Julian wondered, as Garak stared with his mouth open, pupils black and blown wide. 

“It might be worth a try.” said Garak, smile soft. 

“Alright.” Julian breathed in deep and nodded, “Five days.”

The relief in Garak’s eyes stung his heart.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Grumbles*
> 
> So I had nearly finished this around Christmas time. Then my laptop began acting up to the point writing on it became insufferable. The bastard's back to sort of working, so I could finally finish my feeble attempt at pornage (and I would like to apologize to my sister, whose laptop I used for this sin the rare times I got the chance)
> 
> (And another and, the 1st chapter went through bit of a rewrite, if you'd like to take a look)

Air cold enough to peel of human skin ought to not feel quite so heavenly.

They’d been beamed down, along with cargo. The other passengers waddled towards the compound while Julian stood still, marveling at the fairytale like scenery of glimmering snow and gigantic icicles, curved like claws from the strong winds. In the distance, a blue, round figure stood against the breeze, face framed with pale fur. Julian grinned, dropped his bags and sprinted across the airfield. Gloved hands rose in defence, familiar blue eyes widening.

“No,” Garak backed a step, stern finger pointed up in warning, ” _No_ , Julian, the snow— UNGH!”

Julian lunged; his weight flung Garak backward into the snowbank, groans of disgust mixed in with the wet smacks of beardy kisses.

“Hi-, _mwah!, -_ there.” One particularly sloppy kiss landed on the whining mouth. Some fur had snuck there, and Julian sputtered, sticking out his tongue to try and pick off the dry, blue tufts. Under him Garak squirmed, tail flailing in distress.

“It’s in my shoe!” He hoisted his feet on Julian’s legs, seething. “I’ll never allow another word of ill against sand! Rough and coarse as it may be, with an irritating tendency to get everywhere, but at least it doesn’t _bite_.”

”I missed you, too.” said Julian, free of hairs for now. With a grunt he rolled them over, poor Garak helplessly holding on. The sudden chill of the snow beneath seeped to Julian’s bones, and he nearly moaned, wiggling in deeper.

“Mm...” Marvelously shivery, Julian hugged Garak to him, patting down his back and waist.

“You’re so round.” He reached under the fur to honk a squishy flank, pleased to note it wasn’t all jacket padding. Garak squirmed and grumbled.

“To stop this _infernal_ snow from killing me, yes. Let me up.”

“Alright, alright.” Reluctantly Julian loosened his loving embrace. Hissing and huffing, Garak scrambled up, and began to vigorously shake the snow off his yellow tailmit. Chunks went flying, quite a few landing on Julian’s face; they melted, bites of frost lured to sting where the droplets ran.

The snow was powdery enough for Julian to easily drag his arms and legs through. He drew in a lungful of sweet, freezing air, eyes shut against the sunlight and exhaled, sand soaked lungs soothed.

“It’s brilliant here, isn't it?” He said blissfully. They’d have to make a thing out of this. Go someplace freezing once a year, just to so he could recall the feeling of goosebumps and shivers, perhaps enjoy a hot beverage again—  

The insides of his eyelids darkened. Julian peeked through one eye and blinked with it at the blue, grumpy cloud above.

“An opinion I’ll gladly debate indoors.” Garak offered an arm. Both of the bags Julian had tossed into the snow hung from his shoulders, and swung when he yanked Julian to his feet. As Garak handed the luggage over, his head tilted, an almost impressed look given to the winged humanoid shape left in the snow.

“I heard there's a great place to go sledding,” said Julian and squinted at the faraway mountain from under his palm, gaze following an ant-like dot speeding down the slope, “Think we could go tomorrow?”

“I suppose you can.”

“It’ll be fun,” He whacked Garak gently with an elbow and eyed the fur with an arched brow, “Just bundle up in your tribble coat.”

 

The compound wasn’t as well heated as he’d expected. People wore their coats and jackets indoors, though most had theirs unzipped, hats and mittens stuffed into the pockets. One in the clear minority was Garak, the massive fur jacket carefully buttoned up to his nose, only a pair of eyes visible. They glared viciously at the tightly packed crowd, searching for a clear route past each Vulcan, Cardassian, Andorian and dozens of other aliens that roamed between the cafeteria and a rather fancy looking bar. Seemingly made entirely of ice, the holo sign outside advertised a _hot_ , silver coloured drink, blood red steam rising from the tall glass in elegant swirls. Again Julian aimed his elbow, intending to suggest they take a slight detour. The thought stuck to his throat; Garak’s eyes had grown wide and harrowed, chest visibly heaving even under the heavy jacket.

Garak took a tight hold of Julian’s hand and guided them forward in a timid pace, head bowed down, looking uncharacteristically small and insignificant. An old skill of a spy perhaps, maybe anxiety, and terribly unhelpful either way; No one seemed to notice them enough to give space, Garak inadvertently forced to try and slink through any gap available, while also pulling him along through every sudden turn and halt. Julian’s fingers ached along with his heart.

“Elim.”

“What? HRRGhh!” The walrus-like, nasally grunt turned heads, several wide eyes on them as Julian threw Garak over his shoulder into a fireman’s lift. He hugged the flailing legs and well padded rear with much affection, and made his merry way through the buzzling hall, toward what he assumed to be the living quarters.

“Sorry, pardon us, a newly engaged couple coming through!” People stepped aside, many waving and winking at Garak, who gawked at all of them, mortified.

“Julian!” He hissed, tail wrung around Julian’s waist, ”There are Cardassian dignitaries prowling about and you dare haul me around like a cheap conquest!”

“If by cheap you mean easy… Left or right?”

“Left.”

Julian turned as instructed, humming under his breath. Garak wound his tail around him tighter.

“I didn't even mention your dreadful attire,” He said, “None of these pieces go together, and the jacket is at least three sizes to big.”

“Just you wait, my dear Mr. Garak. It'll take days for your eyes to recover from what I have waiting under.” The thought made Julian giddy, grin wide despite Garak’s inability to see it. Garak perhaps heard the glee in his voice, an offended tone rising to his.

“Am I being punished?” The tail jabbed Julian in the ribs, “Didn't you say you missed me?”

“Terribly, which is why I chose clothes you can rip off of me with your teeth without feeling guil- Afternoon!” Julian smiled brightly at the two Vulcans passing by. Their noses wrinkled in unison, hands behind their backs as they marched on through the narrow corridor. Julian watched them disappear around the corner with a frown.

“Well,” He grunted, adjusting his grip before walking onward, “That was rather rude, wasn’t it? Not great for breaking stereotypes either.” He gave Garak’s thigh a quick pat, looking up, though he could only see blue fur, “You know them?”

Garak’s sigh was long and suffering.

“Please know that I only tolerate your endlessly undignified behaviour out of amusement, so I may later enjoy the few virtues you do possess.”

“Ah, so I do have them.”

“If one is generous with the term.”

“A virtue you absolutely don't have.”

“Much like you don't have a sense of direction. We just passed 34.”

“Hm? Oh. Thought it was 43.” Julian backed a few steps to the door bearing the number 34 in a big, chunky font. Garak pressed the lock and they were in.

The smell of warm wood washed over him. Sunlight soaked the room through two frosted windows, glimmering in the intricate shapes of ice, their sheer shadows like frozen smoke on the white walls. Just as pale was the bed, the grey duvets and pillows plumped and inviting.

An impatient whip of a tail had Julian drop his squirmy love on the bed, and the bags next to it.

“This is nice,” He said, looking around the room, hands on hips, “The bed is bigger than I thought it would be.”

A pair of soggy boots thudded to the floor. Moss green socks flopped off the sides, like lopsided tongues panting in relief. Garak neatly rolled himself into a cocoon of blankets, jacket and all, humming from inside it, tail tip languidly stretching then curling.

“They offered to change it for your arrival.”

“Been telling everyone about me, have you?”

“...When asked.”

Guided by the tail, Julian guessed the approximate location of Garak’s behind and gave it a sharp smack, causing a pleased chortle within the covers. Smiling, he ruffled his sweat drenched hair, tossed his beanie and gloves to a nearby chair, and snuck across the room to have a peek into the bathroom.

No large bathtub such as they had back home. Only a simple shower, both sonic and water, two embedded sinks under a large mirror. He left his ring there after washing up, eyes already on a far more interesting element, visible through a glass door next to the shower; a small sauna. Made of beautiful dark wood, the bench wide enough for two to comfortably lounge. He wiggled his toes; It would take more to awaken any longings for Cardassian climate, but he’d accept a little bit of cozy heat to balance the cold.

But all that was for later, as more pressing matters hid under his jacket. Moving slow, he unzipped and hung it to dry, along with his top trousers and socks. The boots he placed neatly to the side, out of the way of melting snow. Every step made a soft jangle, no matter how he tiptoed, hopefully too quiet for Cardassian ears. Last quick glance in the mirror confirmed all was in place, and so he peeked out, careful to keep everything below his neck hidden.

“Darling.”

The cocoon let a long groan, stretched into a high hum.

“I’m walking out now,” Julian warned, a foot already over the threshold, “so you better be watching.”

Another sleepy mumble. Garak rocked from side to side and dragged himself up, bleary eyes blinking. With excessive grace, Julian emerged from the bathroom, chin up and arms spread in a pose.

“Well?” He dropped the act with a goofy grin and shimmied his torso, voice raising to counter the loud rattle of the beads, “What do you think?”

Garak blinked at him, clutching the duvet, horrified eyes fixed on the swaying tassels.

“Who did this?” His lips stretched to a sneer, browridge knitting as he hissed, “It's _vile_.”

“Isn't it? Even I could tell,” Julian pulled at the billowing sleeves, “I kinda like these though.”

“Darling, please.”

“What? They're fun!”

“Nothing about this garment is fun. Come here, it’s burning my eyes.”

All a jangle, Julian flopped onto the bed. He wrapped an arm around Garak, who poked and prodded the yellow-pink shapes in the fabric, as if to determine whether enough violence would make them scurry off the tunic. They reminded Julian of bacteria cells, a point in the shirt’s favour, though Garak needn’t know that.

“You didn't pay for this horrendous piece of a living nightmare, did you?”

“One gold pressed latinum.” said Julian proudly. Garak made a sour face.

“Monstrous theft.” He suddenly smiled, loving circles drawn on Julian’s hip as he leaned to coo in his ear, “And you've failed to mention the seller.”

“Will they ever sell another shirt if I do?”

“How could I possibly make such a judgement? It’s a surprisingly risky business, retail.”

Smiling, Julian twirled a silky strand of hair below Garak’s ear ridge.

“I've changed my mind,” He said, “You can't destroy it.”

“I will.”

“Now, imagine if you had a matching one. We could get married in them.”

“Have you changed your mind about that as well?” Garak gestured from hem to collar in an accusing manner, “Your choice to wear this in my presence makes me think you wish to repel me from your life.”  

“Not at all. You see, on Earth there were people who could charm snakes with music.” Pinching the hem, Julian began to shake the beads, the beat not too far from Another One Bites The Dust, “Aren’t you charmed yet?”

Their eyes remained locked, unblinking through the obnoxious bang and rattle. Though there was not even a twitch in Garak's lip, in his darkening pupils Julian saw a shimmer of amusement. Slow and weary, Garak sighed, a gentle hand placed on top of Julian’s.

“I think it would benefit us both if I take this thing off of you.” He said, tone severe. Julian shrugged.

“Your loss,” He said brightly, but rolled over so Garak could undo the zipper, wincing a bit, ”Though I think a bead or two was digging to my back.”

Garak flung the shirt across the room. It landed with a sharp jangle of a thud, not unlike a hailstorm, both of them grimacing. Julian didn’t get a moment of mourning, Garak’s quick fingers already examining his less ornate baggy trousers.

“These are large enough to fit about four of you!” Garak tugged at the string, exasperated, “What is is with you and sizes?”

“I like them. They’re comfortable.”

“And yet I am decidedly _un_ comfortable.”

Julian grabbed Garak by his collar.

“If I any harm comes to these trousers,” He murmured, brushed his lips over Garak’s in a honeyed threat, “I’ll pour iced tea all over your orchids.”

The trousers joined the shirt on the floor. Julian poked his foot in Garak’s face, laughing at the struggle of him trying to pull of all the layers he’d worn and sweated on for hours. Eventually they too were tossed aside, along with the tribble coat. Julian’s laughter eased into a soft sigh, Garak leaning in to kiss him and trail a cool hand down his side and thigh, under the waistband of his briefs. Julian smiled, and lifted his hips. The underwear landed on the windowsill, far from the intended pile of clothing.

Over a month since their last kiss. A brief one, before Garak boarded the ship to Pakkas. Now the weight over him made Julian’s body thrum, enveloped in the feeling of an endless caress, their kisses deep electric currents beneath his skin. I missed you, he thought, smiled against the warm mouth, nipped at it, making Garak chuckle.   

Alas, they had plans. A little gleeful, Julian shoved Garak off and onto his back, to watch in leisure as he bounced about the bed readjusting the pillows, all carefully placed to support any old knee. Satisfied, Julian settled flat on the mattress, pillows around him, hands crossed over his stomach.

“Alright,” He drew a deep breath, a grand sweeping gesture given to his face, “Your seat awaits.”

There was no leap of excitement; Garak wiggled his shoulders and sank deeper into the bedding.

“Hm...” His idle sigh lilted into a purr like hum, “I'm so comfortable at the moment.”

“You're too lazy to sit on my face?”

“I'm hoping we can achieve the same result with less work on my part.” Julian glared, or tried to, a bit too charmed by coy blue eyes fluttering at him.

“And you just let me shuffle all these pillows in preparation.” He sat up and snatched one, half heartedly punching Garak’s side with it.

“I found your jostling quite charming,” said Garak, clutching the weaponed pillow with an appreciative gaze aimed between Julian's legs, “Perhaps you should continue, though I’ve heard that shoulders make far healthier neck support than pillows.”

Who was he to argue health; Julian jumped on Garak with the whole slam of his weight, heavy enough to cause a grunts and wheezing. Garak muttered something about aggressive affection and long distance build up, arms and tail wrapping around his waist and legs. Light, rain like fingers tapped down his back, scratching every now and then. Mmm. Very healthy indeed. Julian scooted off enough to make space for his hand, which wandered below Garak’s stomach.

“Please tell me I'll find a regular zipper or buttons, not a puzzle.” He said, genuine distress in each word.

“Traditional Hebitian hooks are hardly a puzzle.” Julian huffed at that.

“Ah, the condescending words of a tailor.” No belt, good start, “It's the hardest I've ever had to work to get in someone's pants- Oh, thank _you_.” Three blissfully simple buttons. Julian unhooked them with ease and snuck his hand inside, victorious.

“Aghh-!” Tail twitching, Garak leaned on his elbows to glare at the shape of knuckles stretching the front of his pants.

“You could’ve warmed your hands first.” He breathed, indignant.

“I’m working on it.” Julian’s voice came out hushed as he traced his fingertips along the wet, knurled line, breath deepening; The contrast from the cool air and humid heat burned almost. Julian pushed the waistband lower with his free hand, felt and saw the scales above the slit darken to iron. Blood thickened his cock at the sight, and he wet his lips, brushed his hand over the slippery sides, to the easy rhythm of their breaths. Garak’s low sounds fueled his hips to rub against the bare, scaled thigh, barely enough to satisfy. He watched, through hooded eyes, as dense liquid seeped from the sheath, almost wide enough now, and if he just— yes, thumb on the spoonlike dip, pressing.

Garak keened. Sharply, he tugged Julian by his hair into a long, forceful kiss, jolting to push his trousers all the way off with the other hand. Julian kindly pulled away to assist, scalp and lips tingling. He dumped the clothing off the bed and looked up at the very flustered Garak with a wink.

“See you in a bit.”

Extensive experience had long since taught him that approaching the target from above was the most comfortable and efficient way of going about such business. And so Julian crawled, down the bed, down Garak’s body, kissed and caressed his way to the narrow, scaled maw. Purplish colour flashed inside, teasing him to follow in, have a taste.

Slick already, his fingers slid in easy. Carefully he parted the way, dipped his head inside to have a lick around each firm nub. The buck of Garak’s hips bounced him off, and Julian grunted in laughter, almost hitting his chin in a place Garak would not have appreciated.

“Please keep your knees and thighs on the vehicle at all times.” The wry announcement earned his behind a painful pinch. Kindly he let it go, and leaned his arms on the trembling thighs to keep them from more violence. Back to work he went, sticky fluid soaking his beard, tongue almost sore already while Garak hummed and softly praised.

There was a wet nudge against his cheek. Come out, he thought, and determinately licked around the emerging head, coaxed beneath it with a finger. A muffled moan came from the other end. Julian repeated in kind when Garak squeezed his ass, a sting left there from pointy claws. Scratching, pinching… And he was the one accused of aggressive affection—  

Something smooth slipped to Julian’s chest. Coiled. Yanked. He blinked dumbly at the sudden view of the ceiling, breathed as he now could, chest heaving. The tail tip swept over his face in a clumsy caress.

“Ungh,” he whined, swatting, “Hey-, _pfft-_ , this is sabotage-,” Like a blindfold the tail pressed over his eyes. Julian shoved it away and barked a laugh when it stubbornly returned. “Oh, come on.”

Garak’s smirk pressed against his inner thigh. Then, on the same spot, sharp teeth sank.

A flare of pain. Enough to pull a sharp shout from his lungs. Julian’s moan trembled into a long breath, eyes rolling back as Garak licked the ache away, thumbed the head of his cock slow and deliberate, teasing. Julian moved against the grip on his hips, aroused more by the strength of it, smiling at Garak’s growls.

The tail slid to his throat. Gently, it tightened. Only to hold, not quite cutting air. Still Julian’s head spun, the pulse of his neck throbbing as he swallowed. Heat roiled beneath his skin, and shaking, he reached to grip Garak’s thigh, inched his fingers further along the smooth scales. Still captive, he had to twist, hips sideways while his chest rested on the stomach, moving with deep, happy breaths; In a breathy sighs and sharp gasps, Garak hummed out orders of _yes, good_ , and _there,_ tremors twitching the tail around Julian’s neck, guiding. Sweat dripped behind Julian’s knees. He held his breath, eyes closed as he moaned and sucked sloppily the frills and bumps, cheeks hot and drenched.

Finally, Garak everted; the muscles in the heads moved in sluggish pulses, dripped in glistening strings of clear, slippery fluid. Already Julian knew the taste of bitter dates, the similar scent. He teased with his soaked fingers, slid them around the firm upper cock and guided the other past his lips. He moaned around it, eyes fluttered shut; the tip felt tonguelike, slightly fibred as it joyfully stretched into his mouth. His sweaty skin shivered in memory of coarse linen, how it had chafed his knees in the damp night air, heavy as the hands that had pinned his hips in place. Low whines thrummed in his throat, and he pumped faster with his hand, imagined the cock fucking him, hips thrusting with the thought.

The limb in his mouth pulled taut. Pulsed. Hot liquid spilled over his tongue and lips, coated his cheeks and neck, sharp claws scratching firey lines down his back. The tail yanked again. Julian cried out, trembling; Garak’s lips slid around his cock, the tail squeezing his high moans into choked gasps, thrumming swirls of heat inside his belly, his chest. Up and down, around the head, the forked tips of a rough tongue caressed, thrust inside —

Like a string snapping, Julian’s head fell back, smile wide and aching.

 

Garak sent him to the replicator to get water and towels. Lazy as always, though he did wash Julian’s face and neck clean of his mess, and gently rubbed the shoulders afterwards, kissed laid on the curve of one every so often.

“I fear we might need a shower.” Garak’s low whisper tickled Julian’s ear. He mumbled around a sip of water, quite content as they were, with Garak light claws scratching down his nape.

The sun had begun to set. A pinkish ray cast a square of light through a windowpane, filled to the edges with a tail soaking in its warmth. Julian set the glass on the table. He scooted around, nodding for Garak to move over. They switched places, Julian now leaning on the headboard, Garak on him, back to chest. The tail managed to return where it had happily rested, the tip swaying ever so slightly as Julian massaged down Garak’s neck with his thumbs, the scales there thick and smooth.

“I'm sorry I didn’t leave with you.” He said quietly.

The tail stilled. Garak turned a little, so they faced each other, Julian’s arms around his neck. He took Julian’s left hand, kissed the knuckles, the tan line around his ring finger.  

“I'm sorry I didn't ask you to.” He replied, and held the palm to his cheek, smiling softly. All the words of longing he’d though over the endless lonely weeks melted into brimming tears, tight in his throat as he hugged Garak near, a deep thrumming in his chest.

“Let’s get married faster.” He pet Garak’s spine, sniffling a little and laughing about it, face hidden in the long black hair. Garak chuckled and kissed his temple.

 

They showered. Ate dinner after, unpacked the datarods of books Julian had brought. His pajamas were kicked under the bed, Garak seeming to think Julian hadn’t seen him do it, convincingly perplexed when questioned about their whereabouts. So Julian ended up naked under the duvet, cozy and almost asleep already, Garak’s head on his chest. Suddenly a sigh came from it, the tone defeated.

“Fine,” Garak grumbled, eyes rolled to the ceiling, “I’ll go with you to the mountain.”

“I’ll make it fun, I promise,” Julian kissed Garak’s cheek, and lovingly pet the tail around his thigh, yawning, “You can make a very tall snow angel.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how the space skype works, only that it needed not to work at wherever Garak's been staying.


End file.
